


Early Dismissal

by facetiousfutz



Series: Christmas is Gay: A Tweek and Craig Holiday Special [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon Gay Relationship, Christmas Eve, Dark Comedy, Derogatory Language, Everybody Ships Creek, Except Mr. Garrison Apparently, Explicit Language, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Merry Christmas South Park, Mr. Garrison is His Own Warning, No Fucks Given Though, Self-Loathing, This Type of Shit Always Happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 00:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12923451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/facetiousfutz/pseuds/facetiousfutz
Summary: “All right. You’re up, Butters.”“Oh boy!” said the cheerful little dork, just as demure and small as he ever was. He got extra picked on these days now that the fellas were finally reaching their growth spurts. He didn't let that get him down, though. “My story is called Tweek and Craig Under the Mistletoe.”“No fair!” Bebe shouted. “That’s what MY story’s called!”





	Early Dismissal

Christmas is Gay: A Tweek and Craig Holiday Special

Written by Eric T. Cartman

“Ay! Don’t flip me off, you crooked teeth piece of shit,” said Cartman, glaring at Craig from the front of the classroom. 

“Don’t write stupid stories about me and Tweek,” said Craig. “Besides, I already wrote a story about me and Tweek. One that actually happened.” 

“Yeah. I’ll bet it’s pretty good, and doesn’t even involve me getting ripped on for being Jewish,” Kyle piped up. 

“It doesn’t involve you at all,” said Craig. 

“Trust me. I’m OK with that,” said Kyle. 

“Trust me. I don’t care,” Craig retorted. Then he turned to Mr. Garrison and pleaded with the tired old fool. “In all fairness, I think I should get to read my story first, since Cartman not only stole my idea, but the events in my story actually did happen.” 

“Oh please,” said Mr. Garrison, rolling his eyes. “Get a clue! Half the fuckin’ school wrote about you and Tweek, Craig. You faggy little twinks are the most popular couple in South Park. Get over it.” 

Tweek nearly fell out of his chair upon hearing that. Two long years of knowing that, and he still couldn’t get used to it. Why were people so goddamn obsessed with him and Craig? They just wanted to be a normal, boring couple that blended into the background already, damn it!

Meanwhile, the rest of the class was muttering and getting out of hand. 

“All of you, shut your fucking pie holes! I’ve still got a pounding headache from being at the club all night and you little cum rags are pissing me off!

"Go ahead, Eric. I'm SURE you'll wow us once more." 

After his teacher's outburst was over, Cartman began telling his story. Stan and Kyle tuned him out immediately, because they knew better by now. The rest of the class groaned and eww’d from the start. 

“Why did PC Principal hire this butthole to be our sixth grade teacher again?” Stan whispered to Kyle. 

“Well, after the whole president and nearly getting us all fucked to death thing, he has even less friends than Al Gore now,” Kyle whispered back. “I think PC Principal feels sorry for him.” 

“Why? I don’t.”

“You guys, it’s rude to whisper while I’m trying to tell my story,” said Cartman, smiling innocently. 

“Your story SUCKS!” Tweek shrieked, and the girls piped up in solidarity with Tweek, complaining of vulgarity and the story being completely out of character! Not to mention Wendy spiraling into a short, self-righteous rant about trying to warn everyone, time and again, that Cartman was the worst human on the face of the earth. Kyle tuned in to that and voiced emphatic agreement. 

Then Kenny had to go and ruin the awesome roasting.

“I think it’s pretty hot.”

“Are you INSANE? That’s fucking depraved, even for you, dude. ARGH!" Tweek said, twitching. 

“I like girls with big fat titties~ I like girls with clean shaved pussies~” Kenny sang, not giving one fuck. This just confused and outraged Tweek even more. 

“It’s prefaced with Craig boning Butters boning Kyle’s mom. HOW IS THAT HOT?!” 

“Seriously?” said Kyle, who had missed that part. He got up and yanked the foul story out of Cartman’s corpulent fingers. Twelve seconds in, he rolled up the seven-page dreck and whacked Cartman over the head with it. “Just write Christmas Critters next time, you fat, insufferable SWINE!” 

“For fucks sake. Both of you, sit down! NOW!” said Mr. Garrison, jabbing his finger toward their desks.

“But Mr. Garrison! I didn’t even get to the Christmas part of my story.” 

“It doesn’t matter, retard. The last thing I need is another fucking phone call from Kyle, or his bitch mom. You get a C-, now sit the fuck down!” 

“Yes, Mr. Garrison,” Cartman grumbled. Craig flipped him off and muttered “serves you right, tubby.” 

“All right. You’re up, Butters.” 

“Oh boy!” said the cheerful little dork, just as demure and small as he ever was. He got extra picked on these days now that the fellas were finally reaching their growth spurts. He didn't let that get him down, though. “My story is called Tweek and Craig Under the Mistletoe.”

“No fair!” Bebe shouted. “That’s what MY story’s called!” 

“Girl, you stole that idea from ME!” said Nichole. 

“Wow. You people seriously have nothing better to do than write stories about me and Tweek,” said Craig, glaring at the clock. Thank god it was a half day. He almost wished he’d recycled last year’s paper about his guinea pig, but it was Tweek’s guinea pig too, and he couldn’t tell an honest story about his guinea pig without including Tweek. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Timmy!” said Timmy. He rolled to the front of the class and pulled out a drawing of Tweek and Craig under the mistletoe colored entirely with crayola crayons. He used yellow for their skin tones, so it was hard to tell where Tweek’s head stopped and his hair began. It resembled a spiky blob mostly. Butters thought it looked like The Simpsons and cringed a little.

“I didn’t write about Tweek and Craig,” Stan offered. Craig almost smiled at him. Almost. “I wrote about my dad going to rehab last year after having too many eggnogs and almost dying of alcohol poisoning.” 

“Lame,” said Cartman. Stan and Wendy both shot him a death glare. 

“Oh, that does it! FUCK ALL OF YOU. All of your stories SUCK, children! You have the imaginations of a block of wood. Oh, Tweek and Craig this. Oh, Tweek and Craig that. Oh, Stripe has TWO DADDIES. Oh, and then we have Stan here like ‘I’ll be that one douchebag in the class that bums everyone out with his OH WOE IS ME story because I’m sooooo edgy and original.’ Well, you know what, Stan? You’re not, and neither are the rest of you. You’re ALL FUCKING AWFUL! 

“Who the fuck taught you all how to write, anyway??” 

“Q-quite frankly, you did, Mr. Garrison,” said Jimmy. 

“Like fuck I did. You know what? Just for that, you all get a C-. Fuck all your gay little Christmas stories. I quit!” said Mr. Garrison, barging out of the classroom. The children sat in stunned silence for a moment, and when no responsible adult walked into their classroom to attempt to correct the situation, everyone just kind of waited for someone to say what they were all thinking. 

“Does this mean we can all leave?” said Clyde, and that was their cue. The children all piled out of the classroom, trampling over desks like rabid Black Friday shoppers, as well as Kenny. Every kid stepped on him, crushing his skull into paste. His last thoughts were of vaginas and titties. More for him while everyone else was obsessed with Tweek and Craig.

“Hey Craig,” said Tweek, catching up with his boyfriend and grabbing his hand. “Did you really write a story about us?” 

“Yeah,” said Craig. “I mean, it’s not original, but at least it’s not stupid like Cartman’s.” 

“Oh,” said Tweek, a flutter in his chest. “C-can I read it?” 

“Why? You already know what happens. You were there.” 

“I know, but...” He fidgeted a bit, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know. “I want to see it happen from your point of view. You know?” 

“Not really, but if it means that much to you.” 

Craig handed Tweek his story, and the two of them walked far away from that godawful school, eager to get their early Christmas Eve started.


End file.
